The Kissing List
by thequibblah
Summary: "We had a drunken snog. And, uh, no hard feelings, right?" Wrong. L/J, one-shot.


**A/N:** I don't even know where this came from.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

**The Kissing List**

Lily bounded up the stairs to the girls' dorms, the note still crumpled in her fist. All around her, fifth- and sixth-years were whispering about the top secret party that was going to take place that evening in the Common Room – so secret that half of Hogwarts knew about it already. No doubt there would be questionable decisions and copious amounts of alcohol, and as Head Girl, she would have to moderate everything. The note in her hand was an added sprout of worry. She had already memorised its words. _Emergency! Come to dorm ASAP. Code Scarlet. –Mac_. Knowing Mary Macdonald, the emergency could be anything from a missing hairbrush to a catastrophic breakup. But the girls had long since grown used to Mary's exaggeration – so they had invented a code. Code Scarlet was reserved strictly for catastrophes. Her heart pounding, Lily cracked open the door to their dorm. Whatever Lily expected, it was not what she found.

Marlene McKinnon was standing on top of her bed and waving around a thick, leather-bound book, sporting a frenzied grin. Anna Shafiq leaped around Marlene, trying to reach the book. Dorcas Meadowes was sprawled over the carpet, shaking her head and saying, "Lily won't do it, Mac!" Mary was flipping through _Witch Weekly_. "Doe, at least ask her before you get all pessimistic-"

"Ask me what?" said Lily.

All three girls bolted upright.

"Lily," Dorcas said with a wide, nervous smile. "Just the girl we were looking for."

"Is this an emergency, or an intervention?" Lily joked, shutting the door behind her. Her mates just smiled – Doe, anxious; Mary, shiteating; Anna, pleading; and Marlene, hopeful.

"A bit of both, darling," Mary said. "That sweater clashes with your socks."

With a pointed look at Mary, Lily pulled off her sweater and hopped on Marlene's bed. "Why the Code Scarlet?"

"I was looking through the List today," said Marlene, "and turns out we're almost done."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Almost done… with the List? _Entirely_?"

Anna nodded. "Believe it or not, we've managed to catalogue the kissing capabilities of nearly every bloke fifth year and upwards with some graduates too – thanks for being so slaggy, Marlene-"

"I am not slaggy," Marlene declared hotly. "That's Mary."

"Bitch."

"Hussy."

Anna spoke over them. "And we still have five months of the year left to go! Not bad, considering."

Lily smiled. The List had been Dorcas's idea after Anna's disastrous date three years ago with Sean Turpin, who kissed like a dying, floppy fish. In Anna's words. Each of the five girls had contributed to its archives, and whispers from their other friends had added entries too. They gave the boys marks on their kissing according to the OWL grades – one of Mary's better jokes. Last she'd checked, The List still lacked Andrew Sly, Martin Spinnet, and… and… but Lily didn't want to think about that.

"Who do we have left?"

"Well, Doe here sampled Sly-" Dorcas blushed furiously here "-so it's only Spinnet and him."

The whole truth behind this emergency was slowly becoming clearer to Lily, but she refused to think it. "Are you honestly telling me you can't find anyone who can tell you how he kisses?"

Mary rolled her eyes and put on a high-pitched, dreamy voice. "Oh, James Potter, he kisses like an angel-"

"-so _burning_ and _passionate_-" chimed in Anna.

"-better than _Firewhiskey_-" said Dorcas.

"-as good as a porn star," finished Marlene.

Lily frowned. "People have said that?" Marlene shrugged. Lily sighed and let her head fall back onto the pillow. She knew her mates. They could get information more reliable than that. "Have you asked people outside of his five-person fan club?"

"Lily, the rules of the List say that when it comes to Quidditch players and generally fit people, we don't go by word-of-mouth. It's only going to be exaggerated."

"He's not _that_ fit," Lily mumbled. "Not better than Firewhiskey, at any rate."

"Of course not," said Anna. "No one's that good. But that's why we need you to-"

"You want _me_ to snog James?" said Lily shrilly. As if she hadn't seen it coming. But they were mad if they thought she would actually do it. She was prepared to make sacrifices for her friends, but she wouldn't do things that were downright embarrassing.

"Merlin, Anna, what happened to subtlety?" cut in Mary. "Look, Lily, stop freaking out. We all know you fancy him-"

"I do _not_!"

"-oh, shut up, we all know you fancy him and that's exactly why we won't snog him ourselves."

"But I've been meaning to tell you, I don't fancy him anymore!" Lily said with weak aplomb.

"Sure, and Mulciber and I are soulmates," Mary said.

"We're not going to force you, Lily," said Dorcas, taking her hand.

Marlene said, "We're only going to emotionally blackmail you."

"If you don't want to make a move, you don't have to," Dorcas said, with a glare at Marlene. "It's just-"

"This _is_ an intervention," Anna interrupted. "We're quite sick of you moping about after James, and he fancies you to hell and back again, so we want you to do something about it."

"Consider it an ultimatum," said Mary.

"One you _don't have to answer_," Dorcas said loudly.

"Oi, that's the opposite of an ultimatum!"

"All right, Lily, forget it," Marlene said. She ruffled Lily's hair. "We're not going to pressure you into this. The List is supposed to make us feel better about dates, not stressful for no particular reason. You can snog James if you want, you can snog Spinnet if you want, snog no one if you want, but one thing you have to do is enjoy yourself at this party."

Lily snorted and blew her red hair out of her face. "What's the occasion anyway?"

"I asked Sirius the same thing, and he said it's to celebrate January," said Dorcas, grinning.

"Idiot Marauders."

"If it makes you feel any better, James promised he would help you control things," offered Anna.

Lily sighed. "I know." And therein lay the problem, the root cause of – of _everything_. Last year she had discovered that James Potter kept his promises. That he was funny, not so much of a wanker, sweet, even. They were mates. And then she couldn't lie to herself anymore. Yes, all right, Lily Evans fancied James Potter. The prat. But just because she could admit it to herself didn't mean she could admit it to others – least of all James himself. Her friends insisted he still fancied her, but he himself had told her that was back in fifth year. And truth be told, she was afraid. That was the reason most of her relationships didn't last long. She didn't want an entanglement she couldn't escape, she didn't want something that drew her in too deep. And she was terrified that this strange feeling for James would succeed where others had failed. She was petrified already. If he actually fancied her back, she'd be scared shitless.

So much for being a Gryffindor.

Something clicked in Lily's head. Anna was right. She had to stop moping. Enough of this uncertainty. They had only five months left at Hogwarts. She was going to have fun at the party, damn it, one way or another.

She jerked upright. "I am going to have fun tonight." Her friends cheered. And James Potter couldn't stop her.

* * *

Later that night, Lily plucked a glass of Firewhiskey from a Hufflepuff fourth-year's hand. "Be happy we're letting you here in the first place," she told the scowling boy.

"You don't _let_ me-"

She tapped the gleaming badge on her chest. "Actually, I do. And unless you want your name on McGonagall's table tomorrow morning, I suggest you bugger off and find some Butterbeer." That was a bluff – if she turned the boy over to McGonagall, she would have to admit that the party had happened in the first place. But the boy, still scowling, just walked away. Lily watched him go with a small, satisfied smile.

"There's my favourite disciplinarian," a voice called from behind her. Lily couldn't stop her smile from growing as James wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Hello, James." She glanced at his glass – Butterbeer, clearly – and then raised her eyebrows at him.

"I learned from the best about restraint and good habits," he said, giving her a crooked grin. Some more of the heaviness in her chest – already eased from her sips of Firewhiskey – faded at that, despite the voice in her head chanting _stupid, stupid, stupid_. "I've never heard you tell a kid to bugger off before."

Lily blushed. "I may have partaken of the Firewhiskey myself."

James chuckled. "Good for you, Evans. Happy January!" And he clinked his Butterbeer against her confiscated Firewhiskey.

"Thanks for doing the rounds, by the way."

"Oh, come off it. It's part of the job. Besides, both of us would rather be enjoying ourselves, sober or not." He waved towards the fireplace, where Dorcas, Anna, Sirius, and several others were having an enthusiastic dance-off. Lily smothered a smile.

"I'm not that good a dancer anyway."

"I'm worse." For a while they stood in companionable silence, watching the ruckus around them. In a corner someone whooped loudly – Lily caught sight of Marlene wrapping herself around a grinning Hufflepuff. There went Spinnet. Almost involuntarily, she glanced back at James, her gaze falling on his lips. She downed the glass of Firewhiskey she was holding.

James's eyes grew wide. "Merlin, what was that for?"

Lily grimaced at the burn. "Liquid luck," she said, a little hoarsely.

"Luck for what?"

She merely shook her head and disentangled herself from him. She was not nearly drunk enough for this conversation. With a mock salute and a grin, she waded into the crowd again. Her mind was switching frantically between yes and no. But she was not going to snog him sloshed out of her mind. If she was kissing James Potter, she would damn well remember it. _If_ she was kissing him.

Mary materialised beside her, linking their arms. "Hello there, my firework. What's the decision?"

Lily smiled at her tipsy, grinning friend. "Still a maybe."

"Aha! But it's not a no anymore!"

She couldn't help but laugh at being caught. Even tiddly Mary saw through her. She _did_ want to kiss him. But – but – but – there were too many goddamn buts. "I just want-" Lily stopped. She didn't know what she wanted. She wanted him to fancy her back, but she also… didn't. Fancying him meant she could watch from a very safe distance.

Mary nodded sagely. "I know. But trust me, he likes you! I say go get 'em." She patted Lily's bum and sashayed away. Her words rang in Lily's head. _Go get 'em._ Should she, or shouldn't she? She picked up another glass of Firewhiskey, frowning into its amber depths. She looked up again; James was at the dance off now, moving his gangly body in an awkward and infinitely amusing way. He performed a step she hadn't thought was physically possible and flung his arms out with such enthusiasm that he nearly knocked over a vase. Lily snickered. Then he turned in her direction, and her laughter faded. Even from here she could see the faint flush over his cheeks, the shine in his eyes. His grin grew evermore lopsided. Suddenly blushing, Lily stared back at her drink. _Should I or shouldn't I?_ She gulped half of it down. The Firewhiskey gave her a definite answer.

* * *

At eleven o'clock, the Prefects ushered all of the students below sixth year back to their dorms. There were endless complaints, but Lily and James had decided things shouldn't get too out of hand. The younger non-Gryffindor students snuck out in twos and threes after a thorough lecture on caution from a very sober Remus Lupin, who had drawn the short straw and was on watch. Lily herded the younger girls up to the dorm, ignoring their whining.

"And stay up there," Lily shouted, "or you'll get more detentions than you can dream of!" Alcohol, she noticed, made her a tad more loose-tongued. And hyperbolic. After a moment's hesitation, she crept back into her dorm's bathroom and touched up her faint makeup. On impulse she added cherry red lipstick, which did not clash as badly with her hair as she'd expected. The shade was called Code Scarlet, which made her smile. This was certainly an emergency.

She had officially elected to _do it_. Snog James. They had only five months left of their last year at Hogwarts. If not now, then when? Five months was sufficient time to get over any embarrassment if it went downhill. She would be eighteen in two weeks. That made about a year of denying this stupid crush's existence, and she was sick of it. And they were close friends. He'd fancied her once. And she wasn't a half-bad kisser, she supposed. Although as far as she knew, there was no boys' kissing list that could tell her that.

"No more playing chickenshit, Lily Evans," Lily told her red-lipsticked reflection. She winked at herself and sashayed out.

James caught sight of her just as she was walking down the stairs back to the Common Room. "The real party starts now," he said. And then he squinted at her. "Blimey, Evans."

"The real party starts now," she said, reaching the bottom of the stairs. His lips, she noticed, were level with her forehead.

He shook his head, grinning. "Some poor bastard's getting his heart broken tonight."

Lily laughed. _He'd have to like me for that._ "Back to duty, then, Head Boy?"

"Your wish is my command."

* * *

One glass of Firewhiskey later, Lily was ready to pounce. Figuratively, of course. Although literally would do as well. She almost walked straight into James – what wonderful timing. She hooked her arm into his and pulled him to an unoccupied sofa. "Sit," she told him.

Looking a little worried, he sat. "What's this about?" There was only the slightest slur to his words. The flush across his cheeks had deepened. Perhaps it was the alcohol – no, it was almost definitely the alcohol, but to her, just then, he looked like a painting in careful detail, a study in James.

She laughed and shook her head. Dimly, she noticed her laugh got louder and far more ridiculous when she was drunk. Not that she was completely drunk. She knew what she was doing. Mostly. "I just want to talk, Merlin. Relax."

He did, if only a little. "About anything in particular?"

Lily frowned. She hadn't thought that far. "I dunno. Tell me a funny story."

She sat through three funny stories in her alcohol- and lust-hazed state – which, really, was to her credit. Especially considering the sofa wasn't very roomy, and they were practically pressed together, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder.

"-and, believe it or not, I actually walked about like that for the next twenty minutes, and every woman in the damn shop was looking at me like I was a madman-"

Lily shifted so she half-faced him. He had a nice mouth, she decided. A very nice mouth. Before she knew it, she was tracing it lightly with a finger. James's voice trailed off. His eyes were wide, glazed, but he didn't say anything. Lily inched closer. More silence. And then they both spoke at the same time.

"Are you going to-" he said suddenly.

"Can I-" she began.

And then they both laughed. Before Lily knew it their lips crashed together. Her hands twisted in his hair almost of their own accord, and his fingers skimmed the length of her back. She could taste the light burn of Firewhiskey on his mouth, smell the _James_ness of him – she pulled him closer, practically climbing into his lap. He made a small sound of – protest? She stilled.

"No, don't-" James said without pulling away. He deepened the kiss, one hand tracing the bare skin at her waist. Lily didn't know how long it was before they broke apart, breathing heavily.

"Merlin," said James, his voice low.

God, his voice was giving her chills. If she'd known snogging James would be this good, she'd never have beat herself up about it. She flashed him a wicked grin. "It wounds me that you're thinking of Merlin at a time like this." Her fingers wandered to the hem of his shirt and his lips parted.

"No, not at all," he said. "Who were we talking about, again?" They leaned closer again, but a voice made them freeze.

"Prongs, Lily, McGonagall's walking this way," Remus was saying, looking over his shoulder at the portrait hole as he came towards them.

"So?" James and Lily said together, impatiently.

"So, she's not supposed to be doing rounds tonight-" He finally turned to face them, and his jaw dropped. "Oh – shit, I'm sorry – erm – but we really ought to clear things up in case she checks in on us-"

"Right. Duty," James said slowly. Lily watched him closely; it seemed as though the Firewhiskey daze was peeling itself away from him. Something like solemnity returned to his face.

"Duty," echoed Lily, forcing herself to step away from the sofa – and him. "I'll get the girls upstairs."

"Right." She started away, a funny feeling in her throat. James caught her by the wrist. "Wait – take a mint," he said. "We're of age, but it might be better if we seemed a little more… y'know."

Lily nodded, though she did not know. She accepted the two mints he handed her, popping them into her mouth. "Goodnight," she said.

"Night," said James. She thought his hand lingered at her wrist, but perhaps she was imagining it. No, she was definitely imagining it. Now that she was out of her blissful cocoon, even her buzz couldn't hold back her misery. The funny feeling grew stronger as she ushered her drunken housemates back to their rooms. And when she collapsed into her bed, the cherry red lipstick all wiped away, the feeling felt oddly like a lump in her throat.

* * *

"HOW DOES IT FEEL?" a voice shouted.

Lily groaned. "Please, Mac, my head is killing me-"

"Who cares about your stupid head-"

"Oi, watch it, that head makes sure I don't fail Ancient Runes," cut in Anna.

"-_you_ snogged _James Potter_ last night! The James Potter that you _fancy_!" Mary trilled.

Lily covered her face with a pillow.

"He wasn't that bad a snog, was he?" said Anna.

"No." Quite the opposite. Her head was pounding out a drumbeat, but she remembered every bit of the previous night. "But he looked like he regretted it."

"Rubbish," said Mary, flopping onto Lily's bed. "No one regrets kissing you. Give us details."

Lily told Anna and Mary everything, including the stupid red lipstick and his stupid face and his stupid snogging. "-and he handed me _mints_! Was he trying to send some message about my breath?"

"Lily, I'm sure that's not-"

"And he just walked away! Since when has James walked away from – from a bird because of _duty_?"

"Lily, I don't think-"

"He didn't even say we would talk in the morning! Just, _oh, shit, I snogged my mate, better go before things get worse_-"

"Lily, please-"

"And I was drunk too, so my opinion isn't even valid for the bloody List – not that it ever was, since I fancy the stupid git-"

"Lily!"

"What?" Lily sniffed.

"I think you should go talk to him about it," Anna said firmly. "Stop beating yourself up."

"Exactly," Mary chimed in. "You're reading into this way too much."

"You've already snogged him. How much worse could a talk be?"

Lily groaned again. But she threw back the covers. There was no going back from this. She found James lounging on a sofa – not _the_ sofa, as she began to think of it – in the Common Room, a pillow over his face. Her stomach churned. Gathering her courage, she marched up to him and snatched the pillow away.

"James, can we talk?"

He squinted up at her, then rubbed his eyes. Picking up his glasses from the nearby table, he sat upright. "Er, yeah, sure. This is about last night, isn't it?"

"Oh, you remember," said Lily, relieved. _That_ might've caused even more complications.

He laughed. "Neither of us was that drunk, Lily. So, about last night-"

"Yes. Er, let's be honest about it."

James nodded earnestly. "Yes, let's."

She realised she couldn't take it. She couldn't take it if he shot her down. The words came out of her in a rush. "We had a drunken snog. And, uh, no hard feelings, right?"

He blinked. "Right," he said faintly. "No hard feelings. And now we never speak of it again. Is that what you want?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

He didn't answer. Of course he didn't want to outright reject her. He was trying to be kind. Lily forced a laugh. It came out breathy, as though she was ill. She _felt_ ill. But hadn't this fixed things? Without vulnerability, there was no humiliation. She gave him a final smile and walked away. Her head really was killing her, almost as much as her heart.

* * *

Lily laughed the moment she entered the Common Room. Marlene and a few others were stringing up an enormous banner over the fireplace. It read _Happy Birthday, Head Bitch!_

"Cheers to that!" she called.

"I knew you'd like it!" Marlene said, grinning. The boy next to her turned around, and Lily's heart gave a painful flop. It was James, of course. A flash of something flitted across his face, and he strode towards her.

"Happy birthday, Lily," he said, wearing that grin of his. Despite herself, despite everything, Lily smiled back. The two weeks after that night had gone almost as normal, but there was a slight strain in their friendship. _This is why mates shouldn't snog_, she berated herself. _Why you shouldn't even fancy a friend._

"I wanted to give you this," James said, derailing her train of thought. He handed her a large, carefully wrapped package, his expression equal parts pleased and hopeful.

"But you already gave me my present," said Lily, confused. It had been the latest record by their favourite wizarding band, Jacked-up Pegasi.

"I know. This is something else."

"You didn't have to-"

"Of course I didn't," James scoffed. "But I wanted to. Now, open it!"

"Now?"

"Yes, now!" He looked so bloody excited, she had to humour him.

Lily flopped down on a sofa and he sat down beside her. She unpeeled the tape slowly and carefully, unfolding the wrapping gently. James groaned.

"I should've known you'd be one of _those_ people."

"What do you mean, those people?"

"People who open wrapping paper the speed of pensioners at an old age home."

"I don't like ripping it, all right?"

"Evidently."

When she had finally undone all the wrapping, a box sat on her lap. Lily frowned at it and shook it. It sounded like it was stuffed to the brim – but with what?

"Can you just open it?" said James. "Before I do it for you?"

Relenting, she opened the box. Lily gasped aloud. It was filled with Muggle sweets – Maltesers, liquorice Allsorts, Turkish delight, everything she had drooled over before coming to Hogwarts. "Oh, James, you really shouldn't have-"

"But I did," he said. The sincerity in his voice stopped her from interrupting. "I know that last month makes it a year since your dad died," he said quietly. Lily didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded. "And I know how much you wanted to go home for Christmas."

"But it was our last year, so I didn't," said Lily faintly.

"Yeah, so I reckoned maybe – maybe it's a month too late, and your mum's probably sent you loads, but maybe Muggle comfort food would be… comforting?"

"That's really sweet, James. Thank you," she said, her voice shaky. And therein lay the problem. She _wanted_ to be upset at his rejection of her, but then he did things like this. Belatedly, Lily realised they were sitting on _the_ sofa.

"No problem," said James, giving her a small, genuine smile. She stood up, but he caught her by the crook of her elbow. "Wait – before you go, could we talk?"

Her heart stuttered. She sat down again. "Yeah?" she said cautiously.

"About – about the party."

She let out a huff of breath. "I thought you said we should never-"

"I know what I said. I thought that was what you – never mind, that's not the point." James looked her in the eye, still so damn sincere. "You were right, we had a drunken snog. But you were wrong about the hard feelings."

Lily tensed; she had no desire to relive the conversation.

"No, wait, I'm not done. I don't want a drunken snog. I want to kiss you, sober."

Lily opened her mouth and snapped it shut again. Was this really happening?

"I know what you said. You probably don't want to hear it again, not after the fool I made of myself back in bloody fifth year, but – I had to tell you, one way or another. So, now you know." James looked away.

"Wait, you want to kiss me?" said Lily slowly.

"Yes. All the time, if I can help it." He flushed a little. "If that's all right with you."

"It is definitely all right with me." She still spoke slowly, savouring the words. Lily smiled widely, not caring that she probably looked like a nitwit.

"It is?" James said, disbelieving.

"Very much so. Why not start now, if you're willing?"

James was very willing.

Several hours later, Lily stumbled to her room wearing a ridiculous, shiteating grin and, opening the leather-bound Kissing List, scrawled _Outstanding_ under James Potter.


End file.
